


Swimming Lessons

by Zoya1416



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Frottage, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn, very little plot, which may or may not have happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-02-06 03:53:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1843348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoya1416/pseuds/Zoya1416
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vetinari invites Vimes to visit his swimming pool. And etc. PORN.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swimming Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write V/V slash, and yet how to deal with Sybil and adultery?
> 
> It's a bit of magical twist here, as Sam goes down one trouser of time--and then comes back. It could all be completely his imagination. Mostly it's the porn. Possibly he'll confess later and deal with it. But for now, it's the porn.

Sam Vimes had not known that Vetinari had cleaned out one of the old dungeons, creating a swimming pool and exercise rooms for himself and the male Palace staff.

Leonard de Quirm had designed it, which meant that there were various devices to fill and clear the pool. He wasn't surprised to hear that Vetinari had to take out one of the devices which would use water power for a cannon. 

Vetinari had mentioned the existence of the pool in passing as useful for physical therapy for his still weak leg. Then he'd teasingly said, 

“Why don't you join us one evening, Commander? I'm sure you could use some relaxation.”

He wanted very much, as he had so many times, to punch the other man in the face. But this was a taunt, and he wasn't going to let Vetinari get the best of him. Also, for once, Sybil was out of town visiting old acquaintances in Quirm.

“I'm free tonight, as it happens.”

“Then please join us.”

He should have guessed that no one was wearing a bathing suit.

Well, he stripped in the locker room of the Watch House, and never gave it a thought. This wasn't so different. He peeled out of his armor, shirt, trousers, and underthings, and jumped in.

For a while it was quite a bit of fun. The clerks were young and lively, (something Vimes had never realized.) They were splashing each other, tackling, trying to drag each other under the water. He avoided looking at Vetinari, but the devil insisted on swimming along the bottom of the pool, then grabbing Vimes' legs. This was a challenge and he played back, dodging the long white torpedo. 

He hadn't noticed that all the clerks had left, and that Vetinari had been driving him to a corner of the pool. One more splashing shove, and he was trapped. He could of course burst out of this, but now he was aware of the tall pale Patrician looking down at him. Their chests were heaving. Vetinari moved forward daringly and pressed his body into Vimes.

It was a trousers of time moment...and this may or may not have happened...

He'd not expected this, but there must have been something in his mind already. He was angry at Vetinari for forcing him to this point, but now that he was here...

He reached under Vetinari's arms and pulled him close for a rough kiss, then flung up one arm to his neck, and rapidly stroked down his back to squeeze the ass.

Vetinari moaned, reached out to hold Vimes' chin, and pressed in for a long tongued kiss. They grappled for a few moments, until it became obvious that a pool wasn't right for this activity.

Vetinari pushed himself back out of the pool, (exposing a perfectly dark haired groin, water dripping from the penis which passed before Vimes' eyes), and said hoarsely, “My rooms. Bed.”

Vimes followed him out like iron seeking a magnet, wanting nothing so much as to throw Vetinari down, and, and, what was he doing? He had never admitted this wanting before.

He was putting on the dressing gown which Vetinari tossed him from a locker by the pool. Black, of course, but good warm cotton fleece. Vetinari grabbed his hand and said “ascension chamber,” and they stumbled together through a door Vimes had not seen. Vetinari again trapped him in a corner—damn the man could move fast! They arrived at one end of the Patrician's quarters, and Vetinari opened a door.

Vimes knew this wasn't Vetinari's bedroom (he'd sat vigil there when Vetinari was injured or being poisoned). It was larger, probably a guest room. All that mattered was the bed, and that it was large. It was cold, but Vetinari stooped to put coal on a grate.

Then he came quickly over to the bed (man could move like a snake, and he should have remembered that), shoved Vimes until he was lying on his back, then pulled open his robe. He pulled Sam's arms up over his head, pressing them to the mattress in a grasp harder than Sam knew he had. They stared at each other, ice blue eyes meeting brown, and then Vetinari said, “I've been waiting a long time to do this, Commander.” 

Still holding Vimes' arms tautly together, he kissed the hollow of the neck, then all along, digressing to the nipples, and straight down the middle of his trunk until he encountered Vimes' cock and opened his mouth over it. A swell of pleasure suddenly left Sam flushed and hot. He pressed deeper, harder, into Vetinari's mouth, and the other man groaned. The hot tongue was practiced, and drove him higher in pleasure.

Vetinari freed one hand, still holding Sam with the other. The free hand roamed and ranged over Sam's body, from thigh to ass, stopping there to squeeze and knead, and press a finger around his rim, flicking sensation higher. Then the hand stole up his trunk to light on his nipple, rubbing it. It was one more flick of sensation, higher, and then the hand came down to his ass again for a slap, a squeeze, another fingering, one more flick higher, and the warm mouth pulled and pulled at him, and he was gone.

He drowsed for a moment, not being exactly aware that Vetinari was filching his robe, until he was gently turned face down on the mattress. Vetinari lay on top of him, lungs heaving, and he suddenly bucked up in fear.

“Hush, hush, it will be fine. I will not hurt you.”

Vetinari pressed a warm hand between his thighs, and rubbed oil into them. He turned an anxious Sam down again to face the mattress, slipping a long warm cock between the folds of the thighs, and began to thrust up and down. Sam was tense for a few moments, hoping the Patrician would keep his word. Feeling another man behind him, rubbing against him, was a strange new thing. But he need not have worried. Vetinari made no attempt at all to push himself inward.

After a bit more, Sam began to rock the same way, following the Patrician. Vetinari groaned at the increased sensations, moved faster and faster, and then with a long guttural cry spent himself between Vimes' thighs. 

The patrician rolled to his back, and reached for towels set on the bedside table. He handed one to Sam and took one himself. Sam drowsed again, briefly. When he woke up, he was lying on his back, and Vetinari was beside him, head up on one elbow. Sam's eyes were drawn to the long white body with a dark triangle of chest hair, a long streak down through the thin belly, tracing in a dark diamond around a now chaste cock... Vetinari was smiling quizzically.

“Was that new for you?”

“Which part, having sex with a man, or the way you did it? I've been around quite a while, and I must admit that...technique...is novel.”

Vetinari smiled. “I knew a lady from Klatch, once, and she showed me. Apparently it's common there.” He handed Vimes a blue drink. “Here, this is Leonard's special. Have you ever tried it?”

“When would I have had the chance?” Vimes eyed the drink suspiciously, and smelled it.

“If you want to go now, Commander”—

“For heaven's sake, I just came in your mouth! I think you can call me by my first name!”

—“Samuel—you certainly can. Or you can take the drink, and we can stay together longer. That's what it does, makes us manly again. There's no alcohol.”

Sam hesitated again. Trousers of times, trousers of time—in this one he gave himself over to the night and swallowed his drink. Vetinari left him a moment, for the necessary, he presumed. He got up and looked around at the room, and the bed, noticing contraptions on the headboard and foot rail that he hadn't previously seen. They would NOT be using those tonight.

Back in the bedroom, Vetinari crowded Sam against a wall again, pulling his hands up.

“Why do you do that, my lord?” he asked. 

“You let me rub through your thighs, I think you can call me Havelock.” He could feel the man's chuckle.

Damn. “Okayyy, Havelock”—it was still very uncomfortable, “why do you keep crowding me up into walls and corners? You know I could throw you off.”

“And yet you don't. You stand here with your powerful strong thighs,” here Vetinari dropped one hand to a thigh, and squeezed it. “You stand here and let me crowd you. I think you don't often meet men who challenge you, but don't actually threaten. I pull up your hands, bite your neck, and stroke your nipples (he did so). I kick your legs apart"...(he did so. Man's leg must be healed then.) "And yet you stand here taking it, my lord, taking it naked, as if you're waiting for a tuppenny upright...”

Vimes rocked into action at that, ripping Vetinari's arms down, shoving him back. Or at least he tried to shove him back, shocked to discover that the lean arms were as strong as his own, pure muscle.

“That's what you wanted, isn't it then? To try, and fail, to dominate, that's rare, isn't it?” Havelock pulled out a dressing robe sash, lassoed his hands, and yanked them up another time. Moves like a snake, moves like a snake. Amazingly, Vetinari held him for a few seconds, and pressed against him.

He swore, but Vetinari only laughed, lazily.

“Look. We can play again.”

Vimes hadn't realized until then that he was half-hard.

“This is what I wanted to show you. We can rub ourselves this way, too.” Dropping the sash, Vetinari pulled his own cock and raised it up. “En garde!”  
Sam shook his hands free, and they rubbed swords against each other. Vimes HAD been aware of this type of play. He just hadn't done it since his teens.

At one point Vetinari had said, “Aha! Now I catch you!" And had spread those naughty long fingers around both of them, jerking Vimes into his rhythm. He could have thrown the man off then; he wasn't on guard. But that wasn't the point. Pleasure was the point, and it rose, and rose through both their roots, and Vetinari kissed him, deep and strong, till both came at once. 

This time it was Vimes who said. “Bed.” To rest for a moment, and have the man just one more time...they held and kissed quietly, but thoroughly, covering each other's body, with an intensity which said, "I can't come back," and another which said, "I know." 

It was morning and gray, and he was back at Ramkin manor before he knew it, pulling off armor, shirt, and trousers. Sybil was still gone. The whole episode had the quality of a dream. it may or may have not happened. He turned his trouser pockets inside out. In one trouser of time, the black sash to a dressing gown fell from it. In another, it didn't... Blushing despite being alone, he quickly rolled it up. He'd throw it away later. Probably. That was one trouser of time...he would remember it forever...and this was another one.


End file.
